


Scent of a Guide

by elaine



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair has a fantasy he wants to share with Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scent of a Guide

Jim waits, leaning back against the pile of cushions and pillows, while Blair finishes undressing and comes to sit on the bed between his outstretched legs. It’s worth the wait, Jim acknowledges to himself, watching as Blair settles himself just so, sitting back on his heels, his thighs parted enough to give Jim all the view he could possibly need. Blair’s head is bowed slightly, his loose hair brushing his cheeks, a small, Mona Lisa smile curving his lips. His eyes are downcast, his hands still and relaxed on his thighs. He’s already starting to show, the skin darkening and stretching over his cock.

Blair casually reaches over and picks up the leather cockring from the side of the bed. Jim hasn’t seen him use it before, but he’s obviously familiar with it. He wraps it around the base of his cock and balls and closes the snap. Jim’s distracted, for a moment, by the way the afternoon light makes it gleam dully, between the dark brown of Blair’s thatch and the dusky skin of his cock.

But only for a moment… He passes a dry tongue over drier lips. “Any time, you’re ready, Sandburg.” His jeans are already feeling a tad restrictive.

Blair’s eyes lift to meet Jim’s and he smiles properly, exposing a tiny glimpse of small, pearly teeth. Then his focus turns inward and he sighs. “You know, I never really thought you’d agree to this. I dunno, man. You’ve always seemed so… so vanilla.”

Vanilla? Really? He could respond, but decides not to; decides that this thing they’re about to do has already officially started. Which means no talking, at least for him.

‘ _No talking? I can do that.’ Jim grinned smugly. ‘And no taking your clothes off.’ Blair said determinedly, his cheeks reddening. ‘And you don’t touch me.’  Not such a great idea in Jim’s opinion, but ‘I still get to come, right?’ ‘You damn well better,’ Blair growled and that was that._

He lifts his chin, a small challenge, and Blair’s eyes darken as his pupils expand. He lifts his right hand off his thigh and lets it drift up the center of his chest, not quite touching, but ruffling the dark, wiry hairs. Jim knows exactly how that feels, his fingertips twitch with sense memory. Can fingertips be jealous? Jim thinks that maybe they can.

“I used to think about doing this.” Blair’s fingers trail down again, right down to the level of his pubic hair, then up again. So very slowly. Jim’s eyes follow the motion, mesmerized. “Not this exactly.” His mouth twists a little. “I mean, back when I never thought I had a chance with you.”

Jim wants to say that there was never a time when Blair didn’t have a chance with him, but he keeps his silence. He tries to let it show in his face and is surprised at the relief he feels when Blair’s eyes widen and he nods, a little jerkily.

“So… I had this fantasy of coming up here.” Blair closes his eyes and slides his hand over his ribs, tracing the outline with one finger. “Getting naked, like this…” his breath catches, “not letting myself come. I couldn’t risk that…”

God… Jim pictures it in his mind, his cock hardening. He presses a hand against the front of his jeans. He concentrates on the movement of Blair’s hand, feeling the smoothness of the skin. He knows Blair’s body so well now. Better than his own, because he’s never paid that kind of attention to himself, not even when he jerked off.

Blair’s mouth is a little slack as he mutters: “Just wanted you to smell my pheromones. Wanted to imagine how they’d affect you.”

 _Oh, Chief, if you only knew…_ Jim closes his eyes and swallows, remembering how hard it had been to filter out that awareness of Blair, to keep everything he felt locked away inside, believing he was the only one who was missing out.

When he opens his eyes again, Blair's watching him, his face serious, as his tongue sweeps over the pad of his forefinger. Jim knows that taste – salt, sweet, a little dusty usually. He knows the whorls of Blair’s fingerprint by heart, tiny canyons of skin; could visually identify it just from tracing the ridges with his tongue.

“I thought about what you’d do.” Blair smiles, rubbing his finger against his nipple, the one that he still sometimes wears a nipple ring in. Even without the ring, it’s more sensitive than the other. Jim has spent a lot of time exploring the comparative sensitivity of Blair’s nipples.

Right now, both of Blair’s nipples are hard. Jim feels his own tighten in sympathy and knows that Blair can see them through the thin, grey t-shirt.

“My favourite? That was the one where you come up here and you feel… off kilter.” He pinches the pierced nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his eyelids drooping in pleasure. “You just have to take off your clothes, can’t help yourself, Jim. Everything feeling too tight, too harsh. And you lie down on the bed, just needing to get off…”

Jim bites back a moan. The picture Blair’s painting with his words is all too real. He rubs his hand against the outline of his erection.

Blair doesn’t even notice. The hand he’d left on his thigh is sliding slowly up and down, and his cock is full and heavy, lifting with each breath, still untouched. “It doesn’t even matter that I’m down there in the kitchen - you have to keep quiet, no groaning, not even moving in case I hear the rustle of bedding. You just have to get off and you don’t know why. You stroke yourself, lying on your back with your legs wide. Sometimes… oh, sometimes you finger your ass... It only takes a few moments and then you’re coming so hard you almost can’t control yourself. You’ve never, ever felt like that before…”

A full body shiver runs through Blair, and Jim wonders for a startled moment if Blair is going to come just from his fantasy and the small stimulation he’s allowed himself. But Blair’s hands still and he groans softly, opening his eyes. “That was the best one, but there were others too. You want to hear another one?”

Jim nods, his movements jerky. This is going to kill him.

“My other favourite one… you don’t notice straight away. The pheromones have faded, because you came home late and it’s been a few hours.” Blair smiles, clearly pleased with the notion. He starts stroking up and down the crease of his groin, never touching his cock. “You go to bed, and you’re tired, so you fall asleep in moments. But, after a while the effect keeps building and you wake.”

Blair’s voice is low, rough, and rich with arousal. “You’re so hard, and you’ve been dreaming about me, but you don’t remember – only that it was good and you want to feel that good again. You start to stroke yourself through your boxers. The silk slides against your cock. You’re hot and the silk’s a little bit damp and it feels like someone’s mouth on you… my mouth, from your dream, but you don’t know that.”

 _Fuck!_  Jim’s cock throbs painfully, and he can’t wait any longer. He pushes his hand into his jeans – no boxers, Blair never said anything about having to wear underwear – and squeezes the base of his shaft. It helps a little, and Blair’s eyes on him are smug, so he leaves his hand there, idly stroking.

“You make a sound, just a small one… you think it’s okay; I’m asleep. But it wakes me, and I can hear everything.” Blair still hasn’t touched his cock, but it’s straining, high against his belly, and his balls are small and tight.

“You’re really going for it.” Blair strokes his cock, teasing Jim with brief glances in the direction of Jim’s groin. “The wetter the silk gets the more it feels like my mouth.”

And in fact Jim can’t take his eyes off Blair’s mouth with its moist lower lip bitten to a swollen redness that makes him think of the filthy, wonderful things that Blair can do with that mouth. Besides talking.  _The hell with it_ , he decides, and starts to jerk himself off properly. Somehow he doesn’t think Blair will mind.

Blair smiles approvingly. “Downstairs, I’m listening to every sound you make and I’m touching myself. I have to be careful in case you hear me, but you don’t. You’re way too absorbed in trying to remember the feel of my mouth on you.” His voice is shaking now. “I’m getting so close, and you are too.”

Jim grits his teeth. He’s usually the stayer of the two, when he puts his mind to it, but already he desperately wants to come.

Blair’s watching him, silent now, and Jim realises he’s finished. It’s up to Jim to tell the end of the story; but not with words. No talking; that was the rule.

He takes a deep breath, feels it shuddering through his body, and tilts his head back against the pillows staring up at the ceiling. Somewhere inside himself, he finds what he needs and when he looks down again, at Blair, he knows what to do. His hand moves faster, forcing himself on, riding the edge for seconds that feel like an eternity. And then he lets go. Lets Blair see it all in his face, everything he feels, unguarded and terrifyingly open; keeps his eyes on Blair’s face the whole time. It’s possibly the scariest thing he’s ever done in his life.

Then the orgasm hits him and everything is gone, except the memory of Blair’s voice.

His heart is still thudding painfully when Jim surfaces again. His skin is sticky with junk and Blair’s straddling his lap, holding him. The sharp jab of Blair’s cock against his belly brings him back to earth with a thump.

“Hey, you could do damage with that thing.” His voice sounds thick and unsteady. His eyes are wet.

Blair laughs, easing back to sit on Jim’s thighs. His eyes are wet too. “I’m glad you finally noticed.”

Jim kisses him, slowly and thoroughly. “Been noticing for a while, actually.”

Another kiss, wet and wonderfully nasty. “So what’re you gonna do about it, Jim?”

“Well,  _I_  have this fantasy…” Jim slides his hands down Blair’s sides to his hips. “I come home from work one day, and…” he nudges Blair upwards until he’s kneeling, his cock hovering suggestively at chin height.

“Yeah?” Blair’s sounding a little breathless. He puts his hands on either side of Jim’s head.

“… you’ve lost your voice and-”

The heat of Blair’s cock against his tongue is incredible. Jim suspects that it can’t be comfortable to be that aroused and unable to come, but Blair isn’t in any hurry. He draws back and looks down, watching while Jim kisses and licks his way over and around the blood darkened shaft. He’s trembling, but his hands never do more than direct Jim’s movements. Jim works his way up to the tip and laps delicately at the clear fluid then sucks the whole glans into his mouth.

He takes Blair’s length, relaxing his throat and then slides back to just the tip. Blair’s muttering under his breath, but it’s just nonsense words and meaningless sounds, so Jim lets them flow over him while he repeats the process a few more times.

Then, Blair takes over. His hands tighten around the back of Jim’s head and his hips take up a rhythm that’s hard and desperate. His cock is driving into Jim’s mouth and as much as he loves this out of control Blair, he grabs hold of Blair’s hips so the force of it doesn’t end up choking him. It isn’t until Blair starts to shake uncontrollably and gasp out his name that Jim realizes he’s forgotten the cock ring. He wants to come and he can’t.

He fumbles a moment with the unfamiliar snap closing, then pulls it free.

Blair shouts, his hips jerking helplessly, and floods Jim’s mouth with his junk. Most of it simply slides down his throat as a couple more pulses hit the back of his mouth, and then Blair’s slumping forward, his thighs trembling, his body slick with sweat. Jim guides him down until he’s sitting again, leaning into Jim’s body and almost sobbing for breath.

Somehow, Jim manages to drag off his t-shirt and mop them both down. The smell in here is going to be rank, but he’s trying not to think about air fresheners.

At least, not yet.


End file.
